


Hiraeth (make your home in me)

by AStrangeDaze (TerraRising)



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Gen, I have been told this sounds like angst but it actually isn't, M/M, a/b/o is very background here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-20 14:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14262939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraRising/pseuds/AStrangeDaze
Summary: Seongwoo never thought that giving someone else their happily-ever-after might mean giving up his own.





	Hiraeth (make your home in me)

**Author's Note:**

> _Hiraeth [noun]: Welsh; homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, or for a home which may have never been_

The sound of the weathered brass bells tolling reverberates through his bones and Daniel shivers, fingers clenched tight against his palm as he lets the vibrations trickle down his spine, the fronts of his thighs pressed against the cold stone ledge of the window for so long now he could barely feel them. 

Jaehwan clears his throat pointedly behind him, standing a respectful distance back to give Daniel the illusion of privacy even though they both know he had none. “Your highness,” Jaehwan’s voice is measured and soft in the way that Daniel hated because it sounded so fake to his ears, but they were standing where any servant could walk past and overhear so he stops himself from begging his friend to speak normally, “they’ll be here by noon.”

It’s an unwelcome reminder. The bells sound like funeral bells to his ears suddenly.

_By noon._

He swallows hard, spinning on his heel, “I’m going for a ride.”

“Your highness-”

Daniel bares his teeth at his friend before he can control it, regretting it the instant Jaehwan backs up, head tilted slightly to bare his throat in a clear sign of submission. He sighs heavily, swallowing the apology on his lips because he’s not  _supposed_  to apologize for these things and certainly not with his manservant and he knows the servants watching discreetly will report back to his parents. 

“I’m going to clear my head, I’ll be back to bathe and change before they arrive, don’t worry.”

“Very good, your grace,” Jaehwan intones stiffly, eyes averted and neck still bared.

Daniel strides away before he loses his cool in front of the maid dusting a nearby light fixture. He hated this.

Ever since  _the incident_  his parents have been on his case about his courtesies and manners, as if they could so easily overwrite his last five years as a military man, could polish and shine him, shove him into a suit, and pass him off as polite company. Just another lily-livered prince with uncalloused hands who whiled his afternoons away writing poetry and debating philosophy with like-minded intellectuals.

The stable hands can tell when he’s in a mood even from a distance, and by the time he's close enough to greet them, Guanlin is wordlessly leading out his stallion, already saddled up and Daniel nods his thanks with a forced smile before swinging himself up into the seat. He sets off at a gallop, feeling the wind whistle through his hair as he picked up speed, Rooney knowing his master well and shifting from a trot to almost charging easily. If only it were so easy to leave his worries away, to run and leave everything else behind.

For a moment Daniel’s tempted to just keep riding and never turn back. He knows how to forage and he’s more used to nights on hard, cold ground than sleeping on soft mattresses with a goose-down comforter; he would make it even without supplies. But then he remembers this kind of thinking is exactly what landed him in this mess in the first place and would land another poor unsuspecting soul in exactly the same place. The realization hits him like a shock of cold water down his back, and he shakes his head roughly, charging onwards blindly, trusting Rooney to pick the safest path. 

At noon, the contingent from Wiryeseong would be arriving, bearing with them his brother’s betrothed. No, not his brother’s betrothed, Daniel’s jaw clenches at the thought, it was  _his_  betrothed now. 

Not for the first time in the past few months, Daniel curses his brother for running away, for abandoning his duty with only a note and a single word of apology, letting it all fall on Daniel’s shoulders instead. It had been his brother’s duty as the Crown Prince to secure the alliance with between their country and Wiryeseong through marriage - it had been arranged since they were children, they had grown up knowing this. That was the way it was always supposed to be - Jisung would marry to their advantage, rule as a wise and just King, while Daniel led armies to secure their country’s borders and counselled his brother to the best of his abilities. 

But it was all wrong now, all changed, the pieces askew, freefalling and landing all out of place. Daniel was never supposed to be Crown Prince, was never supposed to marry his brother’s betrothed, just as Jisung was never supposed to elope with some mystery man who had so effortlessly stolen his brother’s good senses along with his heart. Daniel was never supposed to be shoved into his brother’s position to salvage a perilous alliance with a kingdom they had slighted in the most scandalous manner, nor slated to marry a prince whom his brother had unintentionally shamed by abandoning in the name of love.

Shaking his head, Daniel focused on the feeling of the solid ground beneath his mount, the thundering of his heart matching the beat of Rooney’s hooves impacting the ground - he wasn’t ready to be married, and yet-

He nudged Rooney in the side abruptly, causing the stallion to wheel around obediently and head back towards the castle.

_Wherever you are, hyung, I hope you’re happy. I hope that he was worth it._

 

* * *

 

“We’re almost here, your highness.”

“Please don’t call me that when we’re alone,” Seongwoo sighed, turning pitiful eyes away from the carriage window and towards his best friend, “You know how I hate it when you’re like this.”

Minhyun rolled his eyes but pats the other man on his head to soften the blow. “You’d best get into the habit though, Ddeongie,” the childhood nickname falling easily from his lips and Seongwoo’s shoulders loosen as he flops over until his head is pillowed in Minhyun’s lap, “I can’t continue calling you so familiarly when you’re a married man, and certainly not when you’re here representing your country. It isn’t proper.”

Seongwoo huffs, butting his head against Minhyun’s hand insistently until the other gave in and started petting his hair. “I hate this,” he mutters.

“You would have been married one way or another,” Minhyun reminds him, carding his fingers through Seongwoo’s hair, scratching against his scalp soothingly the way Seongwoo liked until the prince was almost boneless under his ministrations, “There was no avoiding it. This is your duty, you know this.”

“Yes, but it wasn’t nearly so bad before,” Seongwoo mumbles, turning his head until his face was buried into Minhyun’s stomach and his words nearly muffled beyond recognition, “Prince Jisung was…..expected. We knew each other, learned about each other over the years; we had an understanding. And that was before this entire scandal and half the court questioning my virtue or becoming convinced Prince Jisung cast me aside because I had been too….free-spirited and driving him into the arms of someone softer.”

He snorts a little at the thought, speaking more to himself than his audience, “Softer, pah, as if.”

Minhyun shares a look with Dongho who had been feigning sleep for the past half hour but neither voice their questions, Minhyun continuing to move his hand rhythmically to stroke Seongwoo’s hair, leaving the prince to his thoughts.

Truth be told, Seongwoo had expected something of this nature to happen. 

The Jisung he knew was a romantic to a fault, the kind of man who had lived so much of his life constrained by the expectations and rules of everyone around him as all royals were victim of, that freedom was a forbidden fruit and all the more tempting. He was a good man – if he had stayed, he would have been unerringly loyal and attentive to Seongwoo, would have tried to make this marriage work. The older Prince had been trying to kindle a spark between them ever since they met each other; for that, Seongwoo would always be grateful.

Yet Seongwoo had seen it happen before his very eyes, had watched the attraction bloom between Jisung and one of his own attendants. If there was a spark between Jisung and himself, then what he had seen was nothing short of a bonfire, a raging inferno. He had watched as Jisung fell helplessly and irrevocably for the young man under Seongwoo’s service, had watched as they exchanged furtive glances and parted each time looking more enamoured and heartbroken, knowing that what they felt was forbidden. 

With the date of the wedding drawing closer, Seongwoo was not surprised when one night he heard a soft knock and opened his door to see a stricken, guilty look on Jihoon’s face, hood pulled up around his head and pack in hand. He had known without having to ask what the younger man was here to confess, warring between duty and love, unable to steal away without a proper farewell. 

And yet what could Seongwoo do?

He loved Jihoon dearly and wanted him to have every happiness in the world. And despite their more distant acquaintance, Seongwoo could not find it in him to deny Jisung his happiness. For all that Seongwoo insists it is Jisung that is the romantic, he was just as hopeless himself; he wanted to believe that love could win all.

So he had pressed his own purse into Jihoon’s hands, urging him to go, to leave with his blessings. Committed the look of gratitude on Jihoon’s face to memory, cherished the way he had thrown his arms around Seongwoo in a tight hug before hurrying away into the dead of the night on the horse Seongwoo had gifted him with when the younger man reached his majority. Seongwoo swore himself to secrecy and kept his silence even as Jisung’s “betrayal” was discovered, scandalizing both nations. 

Some days though he wondered if Jisung and Jihoon knew the heavy price they would leave him to pay, his reputation in tatters, chains closing in so tightly around his neck that Seongwoo could feel his will being choked out of him.

If they would ever know how humiliating it had been to be looked over by prying hands to determine if he was still ‘untouched’, listening to the bickering by proclaimed experts in regards to his fertility, as if that was his only worth and function. Even now he could still feel those cold hands on his skin, dehumanizing in their clinical touch, and the endless lectures that continue to haunt his dreams. 

_Be polite._

_Be gracious._

_Don't speak unless spoken to._

_Remember to smile at him, but don't be too forward._ **_Never_** _be too forward._

_Stop chatting with the servants, it's beneath your station._

_Accept his hand but allow him no liberties._

_Stop clinging to your guard._

_Under no circumstances are you to give him reason to question your reputation._

_You have to be perfect._

_Be flawless, make us proud._

**_Don't disappoint us again._ **

He missed the days when his marriage was a distant thing in the future, when he could hold his head up high without forcing it. How did he end up here, carted off like a broodmare to marry a stranger as soon as possible, to tie the knot before it could be taken back, as if the world was convinced no one would want abandoned goods?

Seongwoo’s only memory of Jisung’s younger brother, the new Crown Prince of Bokcheon, was of a face still chubby with baby fat as he ran after Jisung, begging his brother to play with him. But he knew he was a military man, a General of Bokcheon’s impressive armies, and Seongwoo’s expectations of him had immediately soured. A younger man, alpha, newly made Crown Prince, probably itching to ‘prove himself’, and a military man? A disaster in the making and Seongwoo never felt more like a lamb being carted off to slaughter.

“Dongho-ah,” he calls, voice still muffled into the folds of Minhyun’s shirt and his friend’s fingers still.

“Yes?”

“Please don’t leave me alone with him,” he whispers, reaching out one arm blindly, hand seeking the comfort of another’s touch even as he presses his forehead stubbornly against Minhyun’s stomach as if he could hide from the world there.

Dongho grasps his hand immediately, swallowing thickly as he takes in how  _small_  Seongwoo’s hand looks in his at that moment, how vulnerable he looks almost curled up around Minhyun’s lap and he holds on just a bit tighter than he meant to. “Of course,” he tries to sound soothing but it comes out gruff, that was Minhyun’s area of expertise not his, so he just squeezes Seongwoo’s hand once more, hating what the court has reduced the carefree prince to, “I am your personal guard, wherever you go, I too shall be.”

“Thank you,” Seongwoo sighs, the sound a withered leaf fluttering in the wind, and Dongho wants to march all the way back to Wiryeseong and scream until they all apologized on bended knee to their prince for their folly.

But he can do nothing but stay by Seongwoo's side and he looks at Minhyun, reading the same silent vow in his counterpart's eyes. If this new and strange Prince dared to mistreat their prince at all, they would rip him to pieces together and damn the consequences.

 

* * *

  

“Stand up straight,” Sungwoon hisses in his ear as Daniel fidgets in his place at the welcoming party situated at the gates of the palace, “You're too big to try and hide, it looks ridiculous."

Daniel sighs and straightens up with a grimace, fingers tapping compulsively against his thigh, avoiding his cousin’s glare until he gets a discreet jab in the side. “Ow!  _What_?”

“Can you please look a little less like you’re about to attend your own funeral?” Sungwoon whispers under his breath, as one of the few people who can publicly scold Daniel, the older man took his privilege very seriously though Daniel was of the opinion that he abused it, “You’re about to meet your betrothed, one of the most beautiful omegas of a marriageable age, and yet you’re standing here as if you’ve been sentenced to death!”

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten,  _cousin dearest_ , but a month ago I didn’t even know I was going to be engaged! Now I’m to be married to a complete stranger who likely hates me by association given what Jisung has done.”

“Well he’s certainly not going to like you if you keep grimacing when he arrives as if he looks like a troll,” Sungwoon scoffs.

"I would almost rather he looked like a troll! Or better yet, if he just  _was_  a troll," Daniel hisses back, "Trolls I know how to deal with. Not pretty, dainty royals."

"Oh stop your whining, I've spoken to him before, he's not some vapid air-headed court lady. If anyone has a right to complain, it'll probably be the lovely Prince Seongwoo who has to settle for your coarse manners and alpha posturing."

"Which is exactly why I am nervous! I'm nothing like my brother! I can't  _do_  polite conversation and stately manners, I've never had to for the past five years; he's probably going to think I'm an uncultured idiot."

"Well it doesn't help that your default reaction to stress is to start laughing like the village idiot…."

"Hyung!" Daniel whines, biting at his lower lip and knowing that now he was going to be hyper aware of every time he laughed when he finally met Seongwoo.

"You're going to be fine, just relax, be yourself. Seongwoo is perfectly pleasant, I assure you. Now turn around, they're here!"

Daniel whips around, staring at the approaching procession with a growing sense of horror, palms suddenly sweating harder than his first time in battle, nerves completely shot. He must have made some aborted movement to bolt because suddenly Sungwoon's hand is clamped tightly around the back of his elbow, a silent support that also anchors him in place, and Jaehwan is subtly hovering much closer to his left than would normally be acceptable.

The door of the carriage opens and a gruff looking guard, a bear of a man really, hops out, pulling the stairs down and bowing brusquely to the gathered crowd before waiting at attention for his charge. A well-dressed man, handsome enough to make Daniel feel self-conscious, steps out of the carriage next, descending the steps with more poise than half the lords here before turning to hold his hand out to who must be the First Prince of Wiryeseong. Daniel gulps nervously, a hysterical part of his mind desperately conjuring up worst case scenarios, putting into effect the worst coping mechanism of a century.

A dainty hand extends out of the carriage, grasping the arm extended towards him for stability and slowly the First Prince of Wiryeseong emerges, a resplendent figure draped in the finest blue silk and for a moment Daniel forgets how to breathe. A hush has fallen over the entire crowd, everyone seems to be just as stunned as Daniel, each holding their breath, drinking in this unexpected beauty before their very eyes. Rumours hardly did the First Prince justice, he was worthy of every reverently whispered praise and more.

Daniel watches as the Prince walks over to greet his parents, a perfect little smile on his lips as he shakes their hands and bows. To the surprise of everyone, his eyes do not seek out Daniel after greeting the reigning monarchs. Instead he turns away, sweeping around the carriage with a polite nod to the welcoming party and walks straight past his attendant's outstretched arms until he's in full view of the citizens waiting with bated breath outside the gates. With a dazzling smile, Daniel watches as the First Prince bends over in an elegant bow, deeper than any courtesy would require from a prince to the common people.

The crowd reacts as one with a roaring cheer for their Crown Prince's betrothed, this poised beauty who has stopped to acknowledge them and convey his gratitude for their presence in an act no one could remember having been done before. They shower him with flowers and Daniel knows without a doubt he has stolen their hearts; the people will love him for this display and by the fondly exasperatedly look on the First Prince's attendant's and guard's faces, he knows there will be more to come. 

 

Maybe Sungwoon was right, maybe this wasn’t a doomed match between them. Surely a prince who cared about the people was someone Daniel could come to love?

Daniel looks around, noting which members of court wear a scowl, miffed at the fact that the First Prince of Wiryeseong had ignored them in favour of greeting the people. His parents however seem to be looking on with approval for their future son-in-law, both strolling over to stand beside Seongwoo, waving to the frenzied crowd.

Sungwoon nudges him and pushes him forward, "Come on, go join them you great lump. Greet your subjects with your betrothed, show a united front."

"We haven't even been introduced!" Daniel panics, even as Sungwoon forcibly herds him along.

 

“Then allow me to introduce you right now,” Sungwoon insists as Daniel continues to bluster, beyond caring at this point that the crowd was about to see their Crown Prince without an iota of composure.

 

“Your highness,” Sungwoon calls out, causing all three royals to turn towards them, “Might I present your intended, Crown Prince Daniel of Bokcheon?”

 

Daniel’s legs lock up and he stumbles when Sungwoon finally gets fed up and just shoves him forward, “H-hi.”

 

Seongwoo’s face is serene as he inclines his head with a grace that Daniel envies at the moment, holding out his hand to greet him and Daniel fumbles with his limbs to reciprocate, “I’m delighted to make your acquaintance, your grace.”

 

Their hands brush only briefly before Seongwoo pulls his hand back swiftly, turning to the still screaming crowd with a wide smile, waving to the children who had been brave enough to venture closer to the gates.

 

He doesn’t give Daniel a second glance. 

 

* * *

  

“S-Seongwoo,” Daniel winces as he always does when he calls the older man so informally, and yet calling him _Prince_ Seongwoo seems odder still.

 

The older had never offered any objections to Daniel addressing him familiarly, though the first time Daniel had called him by name like this, Seongwoo had stared at him for what seemed like an eternity before inclining his head, silent as a grave.

 

“Your grace,” the First Prince of Wiryeseong gets to his feet with a slight bow, face perfectly devoid of emotion as always, as his bodyguard hovers menacingly in the background.

 

“I was wondering if you might feel up to taking a turn around the gardens with me?”

 

The words feel foreign in his mouth, every syllable drilled into him by Sungwoon in his latest bid to help Daniel interact with his betrothed. Seongwoo glances at his guard before moving to stand slowly, “Of course, I would be honoured.”

 

Daniel cannot help but bite his lip as he offers his arm to Seongwoo and waits patiently for the other man to finally rest a hand delicately on his forearm as if he cannot bear to make more contact than necessary with Daniel. As always, Seongwoo’s guard follows a few paces back, just far enough to pretend he’s giving them the illusion of privacy but close enough that the small hairs on the back of Daniel’s neck prickles uncomfortably knowing that he’s presenting his back to an highly dangerous and trained alpha.

 

It’s a threat, a subtle one, buried under the guise of propriety and standards of decorum, yet Daniel hears it, loud and clear.

 

_We’re watching you._

 

“Have you enjoyed your time here in Bokcheon so far?”

 

The prince takes a moment before answering, humming under his breathe lightly, refusing to look up and meet Daniel’s eyes. “Bokcheon has been welcoming,” he answer diplomatically, “I find the weather here most agreeable.”

 

“Was there anything in particular that you wished to see? Any places you might want to visit today?” he tries again to probe beneath the veneer of politeness Seongwoo always presents him with.

 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly trouble you,” Seongwoo demures, “A turn around the gardens is more than enough.”

 

Daniel clenches his jaw and says nothing further, guiding Seongwoo down the weathered path where the prince chooses to look at everything except in Daniel’s direction.

 

It’s maddening, the distance Seongwoo puts between them.

 

On the surface, there was not a single thing that Daniel could complain about; Seongwoo’s manners were impeccable, his conduct beyond reproach. And yet he effortlessly rebuffs each and every one of Daniel’s advances. Every attempt to get to know the other better is politely deflected, every instance he tries to get Seongwoo alone ruined by either his faithful guard or his ever attentive personal aide.

 

It wouldn’t hurt his pride nearly as much if Daniel hadn’t seen Seongwoo chatting easily with Sungwoon, if he hadn’t known there was another side to Seongwoo beyond what he deigned to show to Daniel.

 

But he’s seen the relaxed manner Seongwoo will speak with his guard, the way he lets his defences down around his attendant when he believes no one is there to see. He’s spied Seongwoo visiting the stables early in the morning, the way he so casually draped an arm around Guanlin, fussing over the young beta and the adoring way Guanlin gazed back. He’s watched from afar as Seongwoo waves away the concerns of any attendants and _kneels_ in the mud, playing with the children in town who delight in his attention.

 

Yet the moment Daniel steps into a room, the instant that Seongwoo is aware of his presence, he reverts back to that flawless icy manner, a beauty so cold that it threatens to freeze Daniel to the core should he dare to touch. Seongwoo has been here for nearly a month, their wedding is in a week, and yet his intended can barely stand to be in the same room as him despite paying him every courtesy expected of him.

 

_Is it something that I’ve done? Have I unknowingly offended him? When he looks at me, does he find me lacking?_

 

He has tried, by the gods, Daniel has tried to be on his very best behaviour. To be considerate andaffable, to take on a courtly veneer smooth enough to match Seongwoo’s effortless grace, but it was like a mummers play. His brother’s shoes were too big to fill and Daniel longed to sit astride Rooney again, to camp out under the stars with his men, to feel the bite of steel against his palm and just _move_ instead of being stuck here stagnant with an impossible to please betrothed.

 

“Is something the matter, your grace?”

 

It’s a rare moment for Seongwoo to break the silence, to speak first. So rare that Daniel jumps, tripping over nothing and startles a laugh out of Seongwoo, the sound bright and unfamiliar and _warm_. The laugh cuts off abruptly with Seongwoo looking bewildered, hand coming to his mouth and something in Daniel’s gut burns fiercely. He wants to hear that sound again, wants to hoard every little little reaction he can weasel out of Seongwoo.

 

He can see Seongwoo’s walls immediately rising and he lurches forward to grab Seongwoo’s hand in both of his before he can think better of it. Seongwoo’s eyes are wide with something Daniel hopes desperately isn’t fear even as his guard immediately looms over them, growling in the back of his throat loud enough for Daniel to hear it.

 

“Your Grace,” Seongwoo sounds flustered as he tries to ease his hands out of Daniel’s grip.

 

“Please don’t,” he begs and Seongwoo pauses for a moment, doe eyes still staring at Daniel with trepidation, “Please don’t be afraid to laugh around me. You have a lovely laugh, so please, don’t feel like you have to hide it.”

 

Daniel looks at Seongwoo and tries to will the other man to feel the sincerity in his words, to understand that Daniel meant _more_ than just his laugh. They are to be _married_. He wants to know the different sides of Seongwoo, wants to be afforded the privilege of hearing his laugh every day, wants to hear his thoughts about everything and anything, wants Seongwoo to smile at him like he smiles at his attendant instead of that politely distant quirk of the lips that he gets.

 

Seongwoo hesitates for a split second before ducking his head, “Your grace, please release my hands.”

 

Daniel sighs but does as he requests, turning away and ready to leave when a hand touches the back of his elbow hesitantly. He turns to see Seongwoo standing much closer than he had expected, ringing his hands in an uncharacteristic display of nerves as he peers up at Danielt through his eyelashes. “Thank you,” he whispers, the first heartfelt words of thanks he offers to Daniel and the young prince seizes them immediately, burying them inside his heart.

 

Feeling particularly daring, he takes Seongwoo’s hand in his own gently, raising it to his lips to press a feather of a kiss to the back of his hand instead of merely kissing the air above it as he has so far. “I am at your service.”

 

Seongwoo shivers but does not pull away and Daniel counts it as a victory even as he reluctantly releases his hand, aware as always of the set of eyes boring into his head from behind them. Not wanting the moment to end, he searches for something thing to say. “Tomorrow, would you be so kind as to,” Daniel growls a little as he trips over pretty words before deciding to give it up for lost.

 

“Would you like to go for a ride with me tomorrow morning?”

 

“A ride?”

 

“Yes,” he continues, suddenly recalling the look of longing on Seongwoo’s face when he visits the stables, insisting on grooming his horse personally before instructing his guard to exercise it with a forlorn look, “I usually go for a ride in the morning when I don’t have other duties to see to. Would you like to join me tomorrow?”

 

“I,” Seongwoo looks conflicted for a moment before the smallest smile, rare but true, blossoms on his lips, “I would be delighted, your grace.”

 

* * *

 

“So you accepted his offer to go for a ride in the morning?”

 

Seongwoo sighs, pushing the heavy robes off his shoulders, pulling on loose tunic in its place before he throws himself unto the bed and pouts at Minhyun until his friend gives up and joins him.

 

“I did,” Seongwoo rolls over, taking one of Minhyun’s arms hostage even as he reaches out to Dongho with a pleading face, the larger man snorting as he moves gamely to lie down on the bed behind Seongwoo, stretching out his back with a series of nasty sounding pops.

 

“I thought you didn’t want to spend time with him,” Minhyun points out.

 

“He’s not….terrible,” Seongwoo concedes, reaching out to link his other arm through Dongho’s and pulling them both close to him until he feels smothered in their scents - it almost feels like home, “Besides, I’ve missed riding.”

 

“That’s good, I’m glad you’re giving him a chance instead of continuing this little vendetta against him.”

 

“Min!” Seongwoo whines, shoving his face into the other man’s bicep petulantly, “I have not been carrying out a vendetta against him. I was just…being proper.”

 

“You’ve never been one to follow rules, Ddeongie,” Minhyun snorts, poking at his forehead teasingly as Seongwoo scrunches up his nose, turning away to hide his face in the crook of Dongho’s neck instead, “Prince Daniel seems like he’s trying really hard to make this work, stop punishing him for something he didn’t do.”

 

Seongwoo makes a face, “I’m going for a ride with him tomorrow, aren’t I?”

 

“You are,” his friend conceeds, laughing under his breath when a loud snore sounds from Dongho who has fallen asleep already, “Just. Be kind to him, Ddeongie, you’re both in the same position. Don’t let what they said to you before stop you from being happy.”

 

“I’m scared,” he admits in a small voice, tense until Minhyun turns over as well to drape his long limbs over Seongwoo, cocooning him safely between the two of them, “It’s easier this way.”

 

“Easier to keep him at arm’s length? To keep pretending to be someone else for the rest of your married life?”

 

“He might not like who he sees,” Seongwoo whispers, “They almost never do. They want manners and pretty smiles and obedience.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Minhyun insists, “He could be different, can be different.”

 

“He said he liked your laugh,” Dongho offers gruffly, not so asleep after all, “Your real one, not that fake tittering crap you’ve been doing for the past couple of weeks.”

 

Minhyun slaps Dongho’s arm and hisses _language!_ but Seongwoo smiles at the memory, “He did.”

 

“He won’t lay a hand on you that you don’t want,” Dongho promises, shrugging off the sting of Minhyun’s reprimand, “I won’t let him. So go for a ride, and if he tries anything inappropriate, I’ll punch his throat in.”

 

“Kang Dongho!” Minhyun exclaims sounding scandalized even as Seongwoo dissolves into a fit of laughter between them, “You will do no such thing to the _Crown Prince of Bokseon_!”

 

“I will punch _all_ the Crown Princes of every country if they so much as look at Ddeongie wrong,” Dongho scoffs, “And you would help me ruin their families.”

 

“Physical violence is not the answer,” Minhyun insists, ignoring the second part of his friend’s statement neatly.

 

“It is literally my job,” Dongho deadpans.

 

“A brute!” Minhyun complains, reaching over to jab Dongho in the side and before long the entire thing devolves into a wrestling match with Seongwoo still caught between them.

 

Laughing hysterically Seongwoo helps one side and then jumps ship, screeching when he gets a pillow to the face before his friends gang up on him. He’s breathless with laughter, squirming to get out of Minhyun’s hold and planting a leg solidly in Dongho’s abdomen to fend him off, throwing his own pillows as hard as he can. Minhyun stumbles to his feet, throws the comforter over them and then jumps bodily on them both like he used to do when they were still children and unafraid of the world.

 

Outside, Daniel pauses, hand poised mid-knock, listening to the laughter coming from the other side of Seongwoo’s chambers longingly. With a sigh he lowers his hand and turns away; he can ask if Seongwoo wants to join him for dinner another day.

 

* * *

 

The first day they go for a ride is awkward, the atmosphere stilted, Minhyun and Dongho trailing along after them, the whole party moving at a sedate pace while Dongho yawns loudly and Minhyun continues to throw Seongwoo meaningful looks. The moment they were out of sight of the palace Seongwoo decides to throw caution to the wind, if only to stop Minhyun from sending those looks at him.

 

“Your grace,” he turns to address Daniel, fighting to urge to fidget when the other turns to face him - the intensity of his gaze and being the focus of the younger man’s attention makes him itch as always, “Would you fancy a race?”

 

“A race?” Daniel perks up.

 

“A race to the farm up ahead,” he points towards the tiny building standing in the distance, “Would you be agreeable to it?”

 

“Of course,” Daniel agrees immediately though the way he glances between his own stallion and Seongwoo’s mare is telling and Seongwoo can’t help but grin mischievously at Daniel, biting back a laugh at the surprised look that paints itself across his face.

 

“On the count of three then?”

 

“If you want.”

 

He looks back at Minhyun who obligingly draws closer to count them off, “One, two, three!”

 

Seongwoo is off like a shot, energy crackling through him like a lightening bolt across the sky as he lets loose for the first time in what feels like forever, riding hard and fast like he’s been yearning to do since the scandal. The crisp morning air whips past his face and he lets out a wild whoop, his mare easily outstripping Daniel and his stallion leaving them behind in the dust as he laughs in delight, the sound ringing out high and clear. Seongwoo pushes onward, urging Ttalgi to go even faster, wind whistling in his ears as he charges forward, loving the feeling of freedom, leaving behind only a bell like sound ringing in Daniel’s ears and his entrancing silhouette outlined by the rising sun.

 

Daniel’s stallion might be the right build for a charger, bred to shatter bones on the battlefield, but Seongwoo and Ttalgi were built for flight, for speed, racing is in their blood and marrow - Seongwoo who had insisted on riding despite everyone’s objections hasn’t lost a single race since he was seventeen. In this moment, there was no one here to tell Seongwoo riding hard and fast is inappropriate, that trouncing his alpha intended is unacceptable. If they can’t catch him, he can do whatever he wants.

 

On the back of his horse, Seongwoo is free of everything and he never wants to stop.

 

All too soon he reaches the outskirts of the farm, forcing Seongwoo to slow down to avoid ploughing into the fields and scaring the farmers in the area. He’s sweaty from the exertion and breathless, but the morning sun feels glorious on his skin and the fresh air feels like it has stripped years of worries from his shoulders.

 

Daniel pulls up beside him within minutes and instantly Seongwoo tenses, shoulders drawing upward towards his ears as he waits for a sign of displeasure from the younger man. He’s been on the wrong end of alphas and their misplaced pride more than once, but riding is one thing Seongwoo refuses to give up or blotch just to make them feel more secure in their manliness. So he watches Daniel’s face carefully for any signs of displeasure, a scowl, a light frown, anything.

 

Nothing.

 

Daniel looks at him with eyes that are sparkling from the exhilaration of their race and a grin that Seongwoo refuses to acknowledge warms him from the inside out. “Seongwoo,” he calls informal as ever but the excitement in his voice means Seongwoo can’t feel any reproach bubbling up, “you’re- wow! I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone go, that was, wow-”

 

He’s blabbering in a way that’s oddly endearing; it’s a distinct contrast from the stiffly formal Crown Prince that has been incessantly following Seongwoo around and suggesting walks in gardens or discussions over tea. It takes Seongwoo a moment to decide he prefers this Daniel, the Daniel whose hair is windswept from riding and talks with his hands as much as with his words.

 

It makes him want to get to know the other man, to figure out the different sides of him, open him up and see what makes him tick. Makes him wonder if he could come to love this man. It makes him want to run and hide because being distantly polite is easy, but getting to know someone means laying your heart bear to them as well. Being married to a perfect stranger was nerve-wracking. Letting someone in who might not like what they see is terrifying.

 

Seongwoo isn’t sure which option scares him more.

 

* * *

 

Daniel thinks he’s just about worn a hole into the floor, straight through the carpeting.

 

He’s five minutes away from getting married and he still doesn’t know where he stands with Seongwoo. After their ride, things had gotten less tense or Daniel would like to think so anyways. Seongwoo starts more conversations, halting as they may be, and he smiles at Daniel now in a way to makes his heart flutter more than he would like to admit. If Daniel was being hopeful, he’d say they were on their way to building a relationship.

 

But it was nowhere close to love.

 

If Daniel was honest with himself, he’d admit that he’s more than a little infatuated with Seongwoo right now. If he was to base this purely on physical attraction, he’d have to acknowledge that he has had to push back his baser instincts more times than he would care to admit.

 

The primal part of him is ecstatic that tonight he’ll finally be able to put a claim on the other man for the rest of the world to see. The human side of him is terrified that he isn’t what Seongwoo wants out of life.

 

Because despite the progress that they’ve made in the past week, _it was only a week._ Because Seongwoo still holds himself a little distantly, still pulls back into himself every time Daniel manages to crack the shell he’s built around himself, still addresses Daniel as ‘your grace’ and never by name. He hadn’t even realized how much not hearing his name from Seongwoo’s lips would bother him until he allows himself to think about it, but now that he’s acknowledged it, that little fact drives him absolutely insane.

 

He wants to hear Seongwoo say his name, wants to wake up in the morning to that sweet, soft voice calling for him, wants to hear Seongwoo yell his name in excitement, scream it in anger when they inevitably have their first fight. Wants to hear how it sounds as a broken moan in the throes of passion-

 

He shakes his head violently at the track his thoughts went down and pushes the doors open at the slight knock and polite voice requesting for him to come out and take his position for the ceremony.

 

The rest of the night is a blur, the ceremony barely registers to Daniel except how mortified he feels when Seongwoo and him clasp hands for the hand-fasting and he realizes how sweaty his palms are. Seongwoo looks radiant in red, truth be told, Daniel thinks he would look dazzling in just about anything, but the ruby red of the robes make Seongwoo’s complexion glow, the apples of his cheeks carry just the softest blush and he looks so soft Daniel’s hit with this insane urge to take the other in his arms and cocoon him from the rest of the world, to hold him and never let go. He spends the entire dinner staring at his husband, _his husband_ , in a daze, enough so that the wedding party pokes fun at him for it, sighing about ‘young love’.

 

If Daniel retained any presence of mind he might have been embarrassed but all he can focus on is the warm weight of Seongwoo’s thigh pressed against his in their seat, the way his bangs into his eyes, the way that even the perfume oils can’t quite mask his natural scent of tea leaves, rosemary, and starlight.

 

He lets himself be ushered away by attendants when the feasting finally draws to a close, heart hammering in his chest as he realizes what awaits him. He strips mechanically, lets the attendants wipe him down, steps into the lighter sleeping robes that are a relief after the heavy ceremonial ones.

 

He isn’t sure what it is that he expects but it’s not this, not Seongwoo sitting on the bed clad in white silk that’s almost see-through, not dark, liquid eyes staring at him, not the sensual curve of his neck as the older man tilts his head to the side, scrutinizing Daniel in return.

 

“We don’t have to do this,” he blurts out before he can think better of it and Seongwoo raises an eyebrow.

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“I mean, uh, we don’t have to, _you know_ …..not if you don’t want to.”

 

The older man sighs, patting the bed beside him to coax Daniel to his side and he comes obediently, sitting down gingerly and holding his breath, heart working in overdrive.

 

What he doesn’t expect is for Seongwoo to swing his left leg over until he’s straddling Daniel’s lap, suddenly too close and yet not close enough. His hands fly to Seongwoo’s waist on instinct, either to bring him closer or to prevent the other man from falling, he isn’t sure. There’s a quiet determination in Seongwoo’s eyes, a weary resignation in his shoulders.

 

“I appreciate that you are trying to be kind, your grace, but I assure you I can do my duty.”

 

_My duty._

 

The words shouldn’t hurt or leave him winded like this, but they do. It’s a stark reminder that Seongwoo doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to be with him, but has no choice but to do so.

 

“You don’t-”

 

“ _I do,_ ” the words carry just a tinge of frustration, “I do and you know this. If the marriage isn’t consummated, it’s my reputation that will be called into question and not your’s - please don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

 

“I don’t want to force you.”

 

“You’re not forcing me,” Seongwoo whispers, breath fanning across Daniel’s lips as he leans in a little until their noses almost brush and Daniel can’t help but cant upwards, helpless in the face of this magnetic being in his lap.

 

He tightens the grip he has on Seongwoo’s hips without realizing it’s what he’s done until the other man squirms a little in his hold and he loosens his grip immediately.

 

“Sorry,” his apology is breathless and Seongwoo quirks a smile, pushing Daniel until he falls backwards, taking Seongwoo with him.

 

“Don’t be sorry,” the older man starts to loosen his robes, pulling the tie off with a flourish, letting the silk fall open, revealing unblemished skin and Daniel is captivated, reaching up with a shaking hand like a man possessed.

 

Seongwoo takes his hand and presses it to his chest, right over his heart. “Don’t be sorry,” he repeats, “for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

 

* * *

 

 It’s strange, being married.

 

Seongwoo had been expecting that things might change more, but they hardly do. He has his suite and Daniel has his, he has his friends and Daniel has his cousin and his manservant who is probably what Minhyun is to Seongwoo. They haven’t shared a bed since the night of the wedding.

 

Instead, they share dinners together and chat, talk about all the things and share history they never had a chance to before. They go on rides as often as Daniel can slip away from his court appearances, and on days that he can’t, Seongwoo goes on rides himself with Minhyun and Dongho so that he doesn’t go mad from having nothing to do.

 

It’s suffocating in a way that’s different from having the wedding looming over his head. No one here expects him to _do_ anything and it’s maddening. He doesn’t know if he’s being overly sensitive, if being in a foreign country with only two people from home to cling to is just hitting him all at once suddenly, but he chaffs in his skin.

 

Seongwoo ends up _making_ work for himself, tasks no one asked him to do and are surprised that he’s taking on. He rides out to every town or village within a day’s travel and talks to the people who seem not to know what to do with this forward omega Prince Consort of theirs though they are willing enough to chat with him and the children love the sweets he brings along. He reorganizes the system they have for grain storage, drafts up a new plan for how to deploy aid to any areas hit with a famine or bad harvest that sits on his desk gathering dust.

 

He walks into his rooms one day to see Daniel hovering over his desk, reading the proposal and he freezes, feeling a sudden chill grip his limbs.

 

“Oh! Sorry,” Daniel looks shame-faced, backing away and raising his arms into the air as if to prove he hasn’t touched anything, “I didn’t mean to snoop, just, I was looking for you and Minhyun said you were in your rooms so-”

 

“It’s okay,” Seongwoo forces out a smile, eyes still darting around Daniel’s face like dragonflies, wondering if his husband is going to tell him it’s not his place, that he’s overstepped his bounds thinking he can change their legislation.

 

“Do you- sorry, um, I did read a bit of this and, do you want to sit in on the council meetings?”

 

“What?” Seongwoo feels like he’s been hit over the head.

 

“The council meetings,” Daniel repeats, gesturing towards his proposal, “This sounds like a great idea. And, when I eventually have to take the throne, Seongwoo, I don’t want to do it alone. I want you there with me. I know how much good you’ve been doing even when no one asked you to. You’re helping address problems the council insists we don’t have time for, you’re going out to listen to what the people have to say - it’s all, it’s amazing. You let them know that the crown cares about them, you’re taking care of my people-”

 

“They’re my people too now,” Seongwoo says before he can stop himself and the look of pride that Daniel gives him has him smiling back without realizing.

 

Daniel steps closer until he’s holding Seongwoo’s hands, eyes beseeching, “Sit on the council with me tomorrow and every day afterwards if you want.”

 

“I would be honoured to sit on the council with you, your grace.”

 

“Good, good,” the other man beams as if Seongwoo had been the one to give him a gift instead of the other way around, “I’ll um, I’ll see you at dinner?”

 

“Yes,” Seongwoo nods, smiling at him more warmly as the other turns to go, calling out again as the prince was just about to open the doors, “Your grace?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Thank you,” the words are heartfelt in a way that surprises even Seongwoo himself, “thank you Daniel, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

 

Daniel’s eyes widen and then suddenly he’s striding back over, catching Seongwoo in his arms so suddenly with a fevered gleam in his eyes that Seongwoo squeaks, “What-”

 

“Say that again.”

 

“I’m, my lord, what?”

 

“Am I your’s?” Daniel presses close, eyes drifting down to Seongwoo’s neck, to the mark from the mating that has since healed over, “Am I? You’ve never- say my name again, I beg you.”

 

“Daniel, I-”

 

“Again.”

 

“Daniel, what do you-”

 

“Again,” he insists and Seongwoo slaps a hand over his mouth on impulse, leaning in close to whisper in the younger man’s ear.

 

“Daniel.”

 

He laughs to himself at the way the other’s eyes flutter shut, “Are you happy now?”

 

“Not until you say my name a thousand times over,” Daniel declares with a silly grin.

 

“Daniel, Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. Surely you have to tire of this by now?”

 

“No,” Daniel’s expression is ecstatic, “I’d never tire of the sound of my name on your lips.”

 

Seongwoo blushes and tries to push the other away though he refuses to let go, “You’re incorringible.”

 

“But I’m your’s,” he points out, “Aren’t I?”

 

Seongwoo stops to look at him, to _really_ look at him. To see the young man he was married to now, to see the man who loved his country and wanted to do his best to love Seongwoo, who hadn’t backed down in the face of a difficult situation. A man with a bright smile and a warm heart, who shed courtly manners as if they were an annoyance to him, who spoke with servants with the same politeness he did nobility, who could ride hard and fast and _almost_ catch Seongwoo. A man who doesn't dismiss him as brainless because of his subgender, a man who doesn't disapprove of him befriending servants, doesn't mind that Seongwoo can out ride him any day.

 

A man he might be able to build a future with.

 

He looks at this man who looks at Seongwoo at times with heat in his eyes and with wonder at other times and smiles, slow and unintentionally coy.

 

“You are,” he leans in to brush their lips together, their first real kiss, and loves the way Daniel’s breath hitches in his throat, “And if you’re lucky, _my lord,_ I just might keep you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and sorry for the kind of rushed ending. Our "week" long project is almost drawing to a close!
> 
> Come find us on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ongnielsos) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/ongnielsos)


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